Misfortune. (Frerard)

1

Warning: Strong Trigger warnings throughout this book: Addresses the following:

-Rape
-Eating Disorders
-Drugs
-Bad language (A lot of it)
-Mental illness
-Suicide.

-

1.

My heart was beating so fucking hard, as the footsteps echoed through the upper part of the house. At this point I was practically praying that it wasn't him, it needed to not be him. My mind drifted to my younger brother- he'd been taken away from me while ago- I didn't even know if he was still alive, I just knew that he was no longer here with me.

The room was dark, the sort of dark you got if you were to find yourself in some form of cave; dark, cold- almost harsh, violent, silent too- I could barely stand it.

The anticipation was killing me; I heard the figure stop at the door; almost pondering as to go in or not- hesitation; that wasn't something that I'd seen before, not with the people in my house- not now, not... ever.

The door creaked open- and with that came a whimper from my trembling lips; currently I was hiding, or trying my best to, anyway, hiding in the wardrobe I had once thought nothing of, next to where the bed had been in what felt like another life. It'd been so long since I'd slept in a bed- little things like that- I had grown to miss so, so much.

I clasped my own hand tightly over my mouth to attempt to silence my frantic, short breathes, as I gawked through the gap between the body of the wardrobe and the left door- barley held together by the rusted hinges.

I remember my mother once telling me I had to be careful with the old oak- that it was her grandfathers- passed on to mother when she was seven; and hell- that was probably the reason it was still here- it didn't hold value, the wood was rotten and corrupted by the damp. Meanwhile, the beds, the tables- they were all fancy- costly; so of course- they went, just like anything else they ould get their hands on- everything had a price, everything got sold, it wouldn't have surprised me if that was where Mikey had gone, somewhere worse, abroad perhaps.

As the form finally entered- It was soon established to be a woman- an unknown woman- that was even scarier than him or those who had now taken residence in this house, fear of the unknown was worse than fear of the inevitable; you prepare yourself for the inevitable.

She had heard my breathing- I could practically see her ears point up- as her torch scanned the room, I distinctly remember smiling. Not in a weird way; or anything, I looked her and thought 'this must be what a horror movie is like from the point of view of a ghost.' And suddenly- that thought made the poor stranger seem a lot less scary; it was probably was probably the only reason that I wasn't /as/ afraid when she opened the wardrobe.

Her face softened at the sight of me- she wasn't one of them- who she was still was pretty unclear; I was going by the flash light- which attempted to light the room- I didn't see much- hair tied back, some form of hat on. She ducked down to my level- attempting to make sure that I was okay in what little light she had.

"Just- stay here- I need to get my superior officer, okay? You're going to be okay, I promise you- take this okay?" She handed me the torch; which I took with a shaking, weak grip and with that she rushed off.

"Sarge!I found another boy! he's not looking too good!"

Another.

Mikey.